


xo, pariah

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Poetry, prepare for peak emo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: a collection of poems, words, and works





	1. you haunting me

**Author's Note:**

> i write a lot and never post it so alas
> 
> [don't repost these works without credit]

i could recognize your voice anywhere in the world

walking in a concrete jungle, perhaps, you would be there in my way

hit me on accident - we’d spin

you’d say sorry and i’d say hey

and i’d recognize your little lisp

because i have it on my list

what would i do

when you are but an apparition in a dark room

but you don’t even know that i hear you

creeping up across my chest and to my ear

soft mouth, half a year

you speak slowly before the morning glow

and you haunt my hours away

so what would i say?

to the apparition from my room

if i met you when day’s a gloom

tell you i know you

but you won’t understand

the way that i know you


	2. me haunting me

i’d pay you in diamonds just to hear you breathe that way

and to simply get a taste

the right one, that sends chills across my being

i’d pay you in diamonds for such a way

the right way, and gold and silver

and ruby red as i do feel

and dear diary, i'm in love with a voice -

i don't know them but my lips are acquainted with the faintest ghosting of skin

how i wish it would just pull me in 

(and take me a p a r t)

what is there, when they're an apparition and i am no one

to the bone, maybe it’s me

haunting

me


	3. green

it’s a particularly cold april morning

i woke up with my heart pounding, sounding

she’s two hours back

and her voice is so low

and i wonder if i could hear it over the beat of my chest

but does it really matter when i can’t fix a mess

i miss her like i miss the breeze on my face

in a freezing place - by the beach

where she said she’d meet me

drop of the hat, if i’d said where i was at

and she’d be there no matter what

yet now, right now, i wish she’d be here no matter what


	4. "kagome! inuyasha!"

crazy how i write about you

seventh year, almost eighth

babylove,

i’m simply, simply, pathetic –

caught on first love

a sore spot, on a tender heart

my tender heart, you played with so well

and do you even know how much it meant

the words you sent

“been in love with you for years and in another universe we’re so happy”

almost a closure

almost held me over

to my next love,

and i hope it doesn’t come with hurt, unsent letters, and what-could’ve-been


	5. manchester in my chest

i lost my mind in manchester to someone with vampire teeth

with their nails scratching my throat and leaving indents in my neck

i don't know where i went that week

what i did, and what i did next

but i remember all the vampires i've encountered

i tried to scrub them away in the shower

yet the water stung just like those fingertips that dug in my skin

i couldn't wash off all the places i'd been

i only know i try my best to never be there again

turned down the tap, turned my back 

wondered if the water racing itself down my spine

could make me realize i'd someday be fine

could let me protect what is mine

(i am mine)


	6. missed chances (but meant)

\- to the girl with the fringe: maybe if we met when we were younger, we could’ve helped each other. because you said i look good in a t-shirt, and built me up in a sorrow summer.

\- to the girl from my english class: if i turned and spoke, i bet we could’ve been something. because you like to sleep with sounds of the city and i’d take you there nightly; so sharp, so pretty.

\- to the girl with the freckles: do you know you have bits of my youth just from holding my hand? i dreamt of you all the time. because i kept your earrings and hoped someday you’d be mine.

\- to the girl up north: you were like a movie. sun-kissed, so warm. i wish i’d been older. because i wanted to trace the map of you, every line back to the province over and over.

\- to the girl across the sea: i still wonder if you were closer to me, what we’d be. because you kept me alive one night and i hear the music you gave to me every time i can’t sleep.

\- to the girl from years ago: you helped me more than i’d ever admit. i still have your letter. we would’ve been deep, yet quick. because you’d come and go and i’d sit on that couch where my stomach hurt when you said, “hello”.

\- to the girl northwest: i think of you often, i felt things so deep. i wish you hadn’t done that to me, done it to me all the time. because i swear those months, they could’ve turned to years, so much time.

\- to the girl down south: my very first love. had it been fate when we walked hand in hand? what did you whisper to your friend? i love that you remember october and the sand. i still listen to dashboard and think of you. if only you hadn’t played with my head. because, goddamn, we could’ve been the best.

[written oct. 2018]


	7. bloom

i wanna trace my lips across the tendons that push through your hands

like a secret trail on an old map up to your wrist

keeping in line up your arm and staying upon the stepping stones of your skin

is it too much to ask to take note of the feeling of your ground?

where the things you ponder are seeds, sprouting up during the spring of your voice

i want your flowers to bloom

can i pick apart your petals?

do you love me, do you love me not

does it matter when i can just hear all your thoughts?

the color splitting burst of growth and what you emit, can i dance in it?

spin in it just like a field?

with the weeds around me like a shield?

you are a meadow in which i want to explore

to lie in utmost peace

arms surrounding me like a cool breeze


	8. untitled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this work is not inspired by personal experience, like much of my writing is, rather it's inspired by one of many short fictional scenarios/stories i make up in my dumb dreamy head)

i carved "i love you" into your leg

you said i could've told you instead

but i think you like the way you bled

(the way i bled)

we are so wrong but you bring me to your chest

easy as the way this had manifest

something in us dangerous and blessed

and we are bonded - some fucked up bond

and we can't stop

and you twist your hands in my dark locks

i swear you dyed your hair the brightest blonde

it makes it hard to resist the faux halo

and with "this" upon us, let's lay low


	9. the grass on the other side is dead and dry

nobody knows how i toy with blades

or the way i sometimes still want to be saved

reborn for a chance to see that man again

refresh my soul for a chance to hear him laugh again 

several thoughts always roll around in my head

**these things come up at any hour in my bed:**

i hope panama city sinks into the sea

and someone burns down that house in tennessee

and someone kept up that house in garden city

the same city that loved me

i miss that one in the mountains

but the valley is way too crowded

everyone there bad mouths it

and i'm guilty of it too

please forgive me for wanting something new

(a feeling of home sits beside that unkempt road; did those walls know where we'd go?)


	10. cat scratch

i don't want to hear about the tattoo he etched on your neck with his teeth

that place is supposed to be reserved for me

so i listened to the music you gave me when i couldn't sleep

all upside down off my bed, salt on my cheeks

and i'm hanging onto you like a thread on a sweater - begging to be burnt off the sleeve

so touch me again with that end of your lighter; let me free


	11. same as the sky; even in winter time

during the biting cold of last winter, i started liking the color blue too much. and i started missing words of a woman i always wanted to touch. at times, i thought something was missing because of me. then other times, i knew it was simply the way she'd leave. the sound of her voice was in the back of my head more often. the way she sounded in that voicemail and how her tone would soften. it's the strangest of feelings to let someone go, someone you still wanted to stay. to protect your heart in a permanent way. but love doesn't just go away. even if she is far away. connections don't die in a span of months, times from october all the way back to may. i'll never get rid of the vinyl she'd given, the letter she sent. to this day, i think we were meant (to be).


	12. 9PM, wednesday

i'm watching heat lightning spark up the sky in bursts, as if it's fireworks. x is on repeat, vans are on my feet. a voice carries me through this little moment, along with the yellow moon behind me sparing my hopelessness. i wonder if these tiny things are what life is made of, that all the things i'm afraid of are made up. that clocks are just seconds, minutes, hours, and i'm not gonna die in the shower. that someone is gonna care, and i'm not gonna lose my hair. rational versus irrational worries, they're what keeps my heart moving as if it's in a hurry.

maybe i should breathe more - and i mean _breathe,_ as in, sit back and take in something that makes me wanna live more. the lines up in the sky that stay for just a moment: 9PM and keeping my focus.

i stare until the lightning fades out.

i go home and the rain comes.


End file.
